


Little Prince

by edema_ruh



Series: Spider and Iron [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Caring Tony Stark, Collapsing a Building on the top of Peter Parker, Dad! Tony Stark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluffy Ending, Gen, Guilty Tony Stark, Hospitalization, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Impalement, Injury, Major Character Injury, PTSD Peter Parker, PTSD Tony Stark, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Texting, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, collapsing buildings, injured Peter parker, not ship, please they're like father and son and there's nothing romantic about their relationship whatsoever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-23 17:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13792563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edema_ruh/pseuds/edema_ruh
Summary: All Tony ever wanted was for Peter to be better, but the only thing he can do is watch helplessly as Peter becomes more and more like him.Or the one where a building collapses on Peter during a fight and he ends up severely injured while trying to protect Tony. Peter's reaction to being trapped beneath the rubble shows Tony that the boy is actually traumatized by his former experience with the Vulture, but if the billionaire can't even heal his own traumas, how is he supposed to heal Peter's?(Alternatively: Peter and Tony decide to acknowledge their similarities, instead of trying to run away from them).





	Little Prince

The headache that had been tormenting Tony – and that had been the reason for him to finally give in and go to bed in the first place – only grew into a full-on migraine as soon as a loud warning horn started blaring into his earpiece. He knew that sleeping with an earpiece on wasn’t exactly a wise decision, but the thought that something bad could happen while he slept, completely oblivious, was more unnerving than the possibility of having his eardrums blown by the warning noises in his ear. Startled by the sudden warning and aware of what it meant, Tony couldn’t help but to jolt to his feet, immediately regretting it when the unexpected movement only made his temples throb harder. He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to dim the pain, irritation and anger beginning to appear at the back of his mind. Not even when he willingly tried to slept, the universe allowed him to have a rest. He pushed those feelings of frustration even further back into his mind and tried to focus on the voice of his A.I., who was speaking to him, even though Tony couldn’t make out a single word thanks to the throbbing in his brain and the frantic thrumming of his heart.

“What have you got for me, Friday?”, Tony asked, sniffing and walking slowly over to his personal bar to fetch himself a glass full of ice. He had to ignore the urge to pour himself some scotch, which was so close and yet so far from him. Instead, he placed the cool glass against one of his temples and rubbed at the other with the tip of his fingers, trying to soothe the skull-splitting headache. For one of those rare moments in which Tony favored his rationality instead of his passion for working himself into oblivion, he wished he was still sleeping – that way, he wouldn’t be feeling like his brain had turned into mashed potato. However, he knew that Friday wouldn’t have woken him up from the nap – a nap which she, herself, had nearly forced him to take after he spent two days straight working himself non-stop – unless there was an urgent matter at hands. And since Tony was probably one of the only official members of the Avengers that weren’t literal _enemies of the state_ – not that he particularly enjoyed thinking about that subject –, he would probably have to take whatever this matter was into his own hands. Any thoughts of Avengers, ice or scotch disappeared from his mind in the blink of an eye, however, as soon as Tony heard Friday’s response.

“It’s Mr. Parker, boss”, Friday said, and that was enough for Tony’s eyes to reopen immediately. His headache, which had been so awfully unbearable so far, dissipated as well as his previous thoughts under the adrenaline overtaking his bloodstream. Before he could ask what on earth Peter had gotten himself into this time, after the disaster with the Vulture, Friday continued: “He seems to be having some trouble back at Queens”.

Knowing very well that Friday wouldn’t have personally reported to him about Peter unasked unless the boy was in some serious danger, and also knowing that “some trouble” meant that his A.I. was trying not to alarm him too much about Peter’s state, Tony placed the glass at the bar’s counter and immediately headed for his workshop. The fact that Friday was trying to be gentle to him only told him that Peter must be in some serious, _serious_ danger, and he would be damned if he lost another f-… another _superhero_.

“Get Mark 47 ready”, Tony instructed as he got inside the elevator, pressing the button and waiting impatiently through the slow descent to his workshop. “Queens, you said?”, he asked, trying his best not to bite at his fingernails in anticipation, because he wasn’t a teenager anymore. He was an adult, he was _Iron Man_ , he could handle this. He tried his best to push aside the memories of Peter lying on a hospital bed, Peter unconscious, Peter struck with shrapnel. The kid was going to be ok. He was going to be fine. Tony was going to save his ass – again. There was no reason to worry.

“Yes, boss”, Friday promptly replied.

“What has the kid gotten himself into this time?”, Tony asked as the elevator door opened, wasting no time rushing into his workshop, where Mark 47 was already ready and waiting for him. Entering the suit only took a few seconds – this routine had become second nature to him –, but Friday wasted no time answering his question. This time, she knew, there was no point in sugarcoating Tony, since he would need to know Peter’s situation in its integrity in order to properly assess it and find a way to help the boy.

“During a fight with a local lawbreaker, Peter has found –“, Friday began, but Tony cut her short with a click of his tongue and a hum of disapproval.

“No, no, no. Remove ‘lawbreaker’ from your vocabulary, _permanently_ ”, Tony instructed.

“Word removed”, Friday responded after a few seconds of processing the command.

“Do continue”, Tony said, already flying his way over to Queens. According to the route on his faceplate’s screen, it would take him around three minutes to reach Queens from the Avengers’ new facility. He hoped that was enough time to get to Peter before the boy got himself killed.

“Mr. Parker engaged in battle with the man, who identifies himself as ‘Rhino’, and the building they were at partially collapsed”, Friday explained, and if A.I.s could have wary voices, then Friday would have definitely sounded wary when telling her boss that information. “I can’t tell if Rhino has escaped, but Peter’s suit’s GPS tells me that he is still stuck in the debris”.

Tony pretended his heart didn’t skip a beat upon hearing Friday’s words, trying his best to keep control of his breathing and not freaking _lose_ it inside his suit. He couldn’t afford a panic attack right now, not when Peter’s life was on the line, not when he was so close to getting to him. He would get to the building, take Peter out, get him to safety, have the best doctors in New York take proper care of him, scold him about knowing when to throw the towel until his ears bled and then, only then, when Peter was back at his stupid apartment with his oblivious aunt and completely, totally safe, only _then_ Tony would allow himself to freak out.

“Boss”, Friday’s voice echoed in his ear, and only then Tony realized he had zoned out. _Damn it_. He couldn’t keep doing that. “Are you with me?”

“Stats”, Tony said simply, blinking his eyes several times as he tried to focus. His screen told him there were still two minutes left to reach Peter’s location. Two minutes was _too long_. But he needed to focus. He needed to get to Peter and help him, not freak out more. “Give me his vitals”.

A chart on his visor told him that Peter was not in immediate danger, even though he seemed to have broken his left arm and was probably unconscious on that precise moment. His spine was intact, and the sight made Tony let out a sigh of relief. The thorough monitoring that Peter’s suit was doing told Tony that even though Peter was bleeding, they were superficial cuts that presented no imminent risk, some of which would probably not even require stitches. Mostly, the kid was ok, and had probably just hit his head or passed out from the pain of the broken arm. With his super-metabolism, he would probably be back to full health in just a couple of days. Still, Tony didn’t like the 3D projection of the debris surrounding Peter that the boy’s A.I., Karen, had provided him. There was too much concrete on the top of the boy, and getting him out without injuring him further didn’t seem too likely to Tony. Plus, there was always the risk that moving the concrete would shake the stability of the already fragile building and make it collapse for good. According to the 3D blueprint of the building, only the top floors had collapsed, and all the weight of the debris was leaning on the floor in which Peter was stuck. If Tony moved the concrete pinning Peter down a millimeter to the wrong side, he could end up making the whole structure collapse and bury Peter along with it. On the top of all this, there was always the risk that the firefighters or policemen would arrive at the to try and rescue Peter, maybe even discovering his identity. Tony needed to get there, _fast_.

“Was there anyone else in the building?”, Tony asked Friday, going through Peter’s charts one more time as if to make sure that the kid was actually ok.

“No, boss. The building was still a construction site and Peter made sure to clear all the remaining workers out while he was fighting the Rhino”, Friday replied. Tony scoffed, equal amounts of pride and anger flooding him. Peter was so stupidly altruistic that it made him want to congratulate the kid and then ground him. He was probably trying to send Tony to an early grave, from the amount of worry he seemed to constantly put him in.

Sometimes Tony wondered if it would have been best to leave Peter alone with his makeshift suit and his small, every-day crime fighting. It was statistically true that Peter had been safer when he was fighting common deli robbers and neighborhood thugs. Ever since he had made first contact with Peter, the danger in the boy’s life seemed to have increased exponentially. Maybe Tony should have never dragged him along to Germany in the first place. Maybe he should have let Peter be.

“Alright”, Tony told Friday as the collapsed building finally entered his field of vision, trying his best to ignore the pounding of his heart upon the sight of dust and smoke that was already raising high up in the air. “Determine the best possible strategy to remove Peter from the debris without injuring him further or making the building fully collapse”, he instructed Friday.

“Right away, boss”, the A.I. replied. In less than a minute, Tony reached the ruins that used to be a building, heading as carefully as he could towards the floor were Peter was stuck. Having fought the Rhino on the 8th floor of the fifteen-story building when it collapsed, Peter had the weight of seven floors worth of concrete on the top of him, but seven intact floors below him as well. Tony needed to be careful not to disturb the debris and make another floor collapse below Peter, which seemed to be the most probable outcome. In fact, it would be a miracle that the floors below had sustained the weight and not collapsed yet, if Tony _believed_ in miracles. Probability told him that Peter had managed to reinforce the pillars of the lower floors with his web fluid before they collapsed, which seemed more likely. He needed to grab Peter and get out of there, fast. Time was the most important factor in this equation.

After carefully hovering over the debris with his suit, Tony finally caught a sight of Peter, who had concrete covering his midsection and one of his arms, probably his broken one. The kid would probably be able to lift that building’s worth of weight all by himself, but not in these conditions, not when he was injured beneath it. Tony, following Friday’s meticulous calculations, began to move specific blocks of concrete all around Peter, careful not to disturb the building’s already fragile structure. He was almost getting to releasing Peter himself when Friday warned him:

“Boss, I’m capturing another life signal in the lower floors of the building”, she said with a stern tone. Tony frowned, not stopping his arduous work of moving the concrete around.

“Civilian?”, Tony inquired.

“It appears to be the Rhino, sir”, she responded. Tony huffed out in displeasure.

“Is he awake?”, he asked.

“He seems to be coming to”, Friday provided.

“Ok. We’ll have to move faster, then”, Tony said, hovering closer to Peter. The boy’s head was lolled to the side in a weird angle that couldn’t possibly be comfortable, face still covered by his Spider-Man mask. “Peter”, Tony called, opening his faceplate in a hope that his clearer voice would aid Peter back to consciousness. He immediately choked on the sheer amount of dust in the air, but tried to regain his composure. “Peter, can you hear me? C’mon buddy, nap time is over”, he added, earning no reaction from the unconscious boy. It was only when he attempted to remove the debris covering Peter’s midsection that the boy stirred, groaning in pain and confusion. “That’s it, Peter, wakey wakey”, he teased. “Nap time is over”.

Peter blinked a few times, lolled head finally coming to life and tilting back into a more natural angle, possibly trying to make sense of his surroundings. Tony took advantage of the fact that Peter no longer seemed to be unconscious and moved to the side, trying to find a better angle to remove the concrete from the top of the boy without either hurting him or compromising the already frail integrity of that floor. He didn’t have the chance to move the concrete away, however, because Peter let out a muffled, desperate sob. Removing his hands from the concrete covering the boy’s torso, Tony froze on the spot, afraid that he had somehow harmed Peter even though he hadn’t even begun to move the block.

“Not again”, he heard Peter muttering to himself between sobs. “No, no, not again, not again”. The boy began to struggle against the concrete, attempting to shimmy his way from underneath it, and a loud rumble coming from the floor below made Tony snap out of his shock and jump back into action.

“Hey kid, you’d better stay still”, he advised, but his words fell upon deaf ears. Peter, completely unaware of Tony’s presence, continued to try to slide from underneath the concrete, clearly failing to do so. The boy most probably had a nasty concussion and, from the way he kept sobbing and muttering to himself, Tony worried it was a bad one. Trying his best to ignore the kid’s muffled sobs and cries, Tony went back to work and slowly, carefully began to remove the concrete block from the top of Peter, following Friday’s meticulous calculations of where it would be better to move it to. Peter’s sobs became louder and louder until his words became unintelligible and his chest began to heave. It took Tony a few moments longer than it should have to realize that Peter was hyperventilating.

“It appears Mr. Parker is having a panic attack”, Friday explained, while Tony continued to lift the concrete from the top of Peter’s chest. Suddenly, the information clicked in his brain and Tony paled, remembering what Peter had told him all those months ago, when he rescued his tech from being hijacked by the Vulture.

The Vulture had dropped a building on Peter. Peter had been stuck beneath the debris, much like he was now. The boy had probably been traumatized by the experience, and he was currently being forced to revive it all. With the concussion, it was possible that Peter had no idea where he was and what was happening to him, either, which only aggravated his state. Tony swallowed dry, carefully placing the largest block of concrete that had been pinning Peter on the farthest side of the room, before going back to remove the debris still covering the boy’s arm. Peter was still sobbing, and now that he was mostly free, he had started kicking his legs and twisting his body in a desperate attempt to get away, still unaware that Tony was there and trying to help him. At that point, Peter was about to do some serious damage to his already broken arm from the way he kept trying to pull it free, and Tony was on the verge of having a panic attack himself from the sheer amount of stress that seeing Peter like that caused him. He had never seen the kid so disoriented and afraid, limbs flailing in a desperate attempt to set himself free. God, he had never seen Peter _crying_. Tony vaguely wondered if that had been how he had looked like all those years ago, trapped in a cage in Afghanistan, desperate for someone to find him until he realized that he would have to build his own way out. All he wanted was for Peter to become someone better than him, but Tony seemed to be failing yet again, since Peter was clearly already traumatized, pretty much as Tony himself was.

“Hey, Peter, wake up, kid”, Tony tried to call his attention, holding him down by his good shoulder while he removed the weight pinning Peter’s broken arm. “No need to fuss, I’m here with you ok? I’m getting you out of here”, he did his best to sound reassuring, but it was difficult to sound anything other than choked with the amount of dust in the air. Still, Tony didn’t close his face plate, knowing that it would probably be best if Peter saw a familiar face in this situation.

Peter stopped struggling for a couple seconds, though his muscles were still stiff. Through his mask, he gazed at Tony’s form for long moments, probably trying to make sense of the person kneeling beside him. As much as he wanted to, Tony couldn’t waste any time into trying to help Peter back to his senses – he could do that later, when they weren’t inside a building that was about to collapse on itself. His top priority right now was just calming Peter down enough for him to stop struggling against him and getting the boy out of this damn place. He could worry about the concussion later, since Peter’s charts told him that it wasn’t anything life-threatening.

“Boss, the Rhino has regained consciousness and is trying to get to our floor”, Friday warned him, an urgent tone in her voice that only seemed to be there under imminent threats.

“Shit”, Tony muttered to himself. Peter had stopped struggling after hearing his words, but still seemed to be having trouble recognizing Tony. He lifted his trembling good hand towards his face as if to remove his mask to get a better look at his savior, but Tony stopped him with a tight grip before he could. “You’re going to want to keep that in”, Tony told him with a warning in his voice. “The weather is dusty with a risk of building collapse. Plus, your buddy Rhino is about to arrive any moment now, so I need to get you out of here ASAP”.

Peter’s eyes widened at this, as if he had suddenly remembered everything that happened to him. Staring at Tony for a few more seconds, his trembling hand falling limply to the floor, Peter finally mustered a weak and choked out: “Mr. Stark?”

“The one and only”, Tony said absentmindedly, finally managing to remove the last of the concrete pining down Peter’s arm with a triumphant groan. As soon as the block’s weight was removed from the top of Peter, Tony found a deep gash on the kid’s broken forearm, which started oozing blood at a faster pace than he would have liked. “Alright kid, I’ll give you a lift now”, he said, trying his best to keep the nearly paralyzing fear he was feeling from his voice. Now that Peter already knew it was Tony there, he closed his faceplate again, relieved to breathe in something other than dust for a change. He would surely sneeze bricks as soon as he got back home, from the amount of dust he had inhaled. He was bending over to pick Peter’s shaking form up when everything happened at once.

“Boss, watch out for –“, Friday exclaimed in his earpiece, but the sound of her voice was drowned by a loud rumble. The floor beneath Peter collapsed and sunk, and in the milliseconds in which this went down, Tony only had time to instinctively reach his hand out to grab Peter, managing to take his hand before he could fall down along with the rain of dust and concrete. Tony activated the repulsors in his suit so that he wouldn’t sink down along with the rest of the floor, holding Peter by the hand as the remaining of the building collapsed beneath them. Tony’s suit hovered right above the collapsing building, which resumed crumbling down in a sea of grey dust. Peter and he were safe.

However, the feeling of safety didn’t last for long. Before Tony had time to feel triumphant and maybe get the hell out of there, a form erupted from the debris and launched itself against them, colliding with Tony midair and throwing punches at him. His grasp on Peter’s hand was strong and firm, and he didn’t let the boy go, despite of the fact that they were hovering just a few meters above the concrete and the fall would probably not injure Peter further. Peter, however, didn’t seem to be at the top of his wits, because his limbs began flaying madly as he tried to hold on to Tony as tightly as possible. This was hard, trying to fight off the Rhino and holding on to Peter at the same time, and because of this, it took Tony longer than it should have to hear Peter’s angry shouts.

“Let go of him! Leave him alone!”

Something tightened in Tony’s chest as he realized that Peter’s desperate flailing of limbs wasn’t him trying to hold on to Tony. It was him trying to fight off the Rhino. He was trying to protect Tony.

The Rhino managed to hold on to Tony’s shoulder with one hand and used the other to reach towards the arc reactor in his chest, managing to dig his fingers into the metal of his suit and closing a fist around the reactor. Before Tony could do anything to stop him from tearing the device out of his suit, Peter let out an animalistic scream, shot a web with his still-functioning web-shooter at the Rhino’s back and yanked him away from Tony at full force. The Rhino was sent flying away from Tony before he succeeded at tearing the arc reactor out of the Mark 47.

And then, in the blink of an eye, Peter was yanked away from Tony’s grasp.

It took Tony a couple of seconds of frozen shock to come to the realization that the Rhino had managed to grab a hold of Peter when he was yanked away from Tony, thus pulling the boy down with him. And then the two of them collapsed with the remaining of the falling building, Peter falling right beneath the Rhino and being pinned down by his weight against the rubble. The thing that made Tony finally jump back into action was the sound of Peter’s blood-curdling scream. 

As the Rhino got to his knees and got off from the top of Peter, Tony saw red. He didn’t waste time in shooting him away from Peter before he could do anything else to harm the kid. The blast that hit Rhino’s chest was so powerful that it drained a considerable portion of Tony’s suit energy, but he didn’t care. He didn’t even bother to watch as the man flew off the destroyed building in an ungraceful arc, collapsing with the pavement on the street with a sickening crack. All Tony could focus on was Peter, Peter who was bleeding, Peter who was injured, Peter who would die unless Tony acted quickly.  Peter who, to Tony’s horror, had _fallen right on the top of a pipe_. The pipe had impaled Peter’s side, protruding from right above his hip, and the kid was screaming, _screaming_ , **_screaming_** non-stop in a way that Tony wouldn’t be able to ever, _ever_ forget, not if he tried for a million years.

All Tony could focus on was Peter, Peter who was bleeding, Peter who was injured, Peter who would die unless Tony acted quickly. He knew that, once he removed the pipe from Peter’s side – or rather, removed _Peter_ from the pipe – he would have to get medical help right away, otherwise the boy would bleed out. But there was no S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore, no medical team to trust, no one he could recur to. He couldn’t take the boy to a bloody hospital like Happy had done the last time with the Vulture – that had been a stupid move but Tony had arrived too late to stop him –, he couldn’t risk revealing Peter’s identity to the world like that again. Peter wasn’t him. Peter wasn’t _better_ than him. Peter was just a kid, a kid who deserved to live a normal life without having his house blown to bits by a terrorist and without being kidnapped and forced to build weapons, without being under imminent threat just because he was kind enough to _save_ people. Peter didn’t deserve any of this, oh god, what was Tony going to _do_ –

“Mr. S-Stark”, Peter groaned, eyes squeezed shut and voice tight with pain. He had stopped screaming a while before, and was now panting heavily as if unable to breathe through the pain. God, he was probably in so much pain. His broken arm lay limply beside his body, its angle slightly unnatural, and his good hand was gripping the blood-covered pipe protruding from his body like a lifeline. Knowing that the Rhino wouldn’t be coming back to bother them anymore, at least not after the powerful blast Tony hit him with, he removed Peter’s mask so that he could breathe better. The boy choked on the dust around him and this only seemed to cause him further pain, but at the same time he looked more relieved without the mask making him feel claustrophobic. Sweat was already blossoming on his forehead and there was a blooming bruise on his temple, which was probably the source of his concussion. Tony couldn’t get Peter out of there without figuring out where to take him first, otherwise he would end up getting the boy killed. Oh my god, he was going to get this boy killed.

 _Just another dead boy in your long list of victims_ , a dark part of his brain whispered at him. Tony swallowed past the nausea raising at the back of his throat.

“I’m here, kid”, Tony reassured him, once again opening his faceplate in order to offer Peter whatever comfort he could. Peter was gasping and moaning in pain beneath him, the blood oozing from his arm and the wound at his side too quickly, too dangerously. Tony had to act. “Just take deep breaths, I’ll get you out of here”, he promised Peter, mind rushing in a thousand miles per minute trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do. If only Banner was still around, Tony would have no doubt who to recur to. But Banner had left him, pretty much like everyone else in his life, and the only people Tony had left were Happy and Pepper and Rhodes, none of them being trained medical doctors.

“H-h-hurts”, Peter gasped pitifully, wincing in pain and squeezing his eyes shut again. His breathing was erratic and Tony knew that if he closed his faceplate again, the charts in his visor would show him all the sorts of information about Peter’s state that would make him lose his shit for good.

“I know it hurts”, Tony comforted him, because comforting Peter was the least he could do. “Just try to focus and don’t fall asleep. I’m getting you out of here”.

“Tell… tell May…”, Peter started, but Tony huffed out an indignant breath, shaking his head.

“Thanks for your faith in me, _Spider Guy_ , but I said I’m getting you out of here. Leave the goodbye notes for when you’re actually dying, which will probably take a lot of decades still”, Tony told him, heart beating so fast inside his chest it felt like it was about to explode. There was no way this was a good sign, not with his damn heart condition, but this was the last of Tony’s problems on that moment. He ignored how numb his left arm felt and focused on Peter.

“Boss, there are four hospitals less than five minutes from here, and twelve in a ten-minute range”, Friday provided him. “According to Karen’s calculations, you will have ten minutes to get Mr. Parker to the hands of a capacitated surgeon before he enters hypovolemic shock”.

“We can’t take him to a hospital without risking his identity”, Tony argued. “Once was enough already”.

“But boss –“, Friday tried, and for some reason that was enough to make Tony finally snap.

“How am I supposed to explain how a kid was impaled by a pipe if I take him to a hospital?!”, he shouted at his coms, making Peter flinch. The boy groaned, eyes squeezed shut.

“Tell May I’m s-s-s-sorry”, Peter tried saying again, and Tony could feel the breath hitching in his throat, he could feel his chest tightening and his vision blurring and he couldn’t have a panic attack. He couldn’t. Peter needed him, _Peter needed him_ , he couldn’t lose it like that, not now! But goddamn, his hands were shaking and his lungs were burning and he couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ breathe. He knew he was going to lose it for sure until a hand grabbed his, and Tony blinked his eyes to find it was Peter’s hand holding his own, and it was Peter offering him comfort. He felt like bursting into sobs right there because _he had failed this kid_ and there was a high chance Peter was going to die because of him, because he tried to protect Tony, and still _Peter was comforting him_.

Suddenly, the idea of allowing a stupid, rusty pipe to kill Peter Parker sounded like the most stupid idea in the world. And Tony would be damned if he let that happen.

“Ok, kid”, Tony sniffed, trying to catch his breath, which despite still being very constricted, found its way into his lungs. “I’ll tell May whatever you want, but only if you stay awake”.

“P-please…”, Peter tried, sounding more sluggish by the second. Tony was having none of it. If Peter was strong enough to comfort him while dying, then Tony would be strong enough to help him survive this.

“This is going to hurt, Pete. I’m sorry”, Tony said, and before Peter could protest, Tony grabbed him bridal-style and pulled him up, yanking the pipe away from his body and releasing him. Peter screamed, but he didn’t try to fight Tony, which the billionaire was slightly thankful for. By the time Tony took off from the debris, Peter was already unconscious in his arms, head lolled against Tony’s chest.

“Call the nearest hospital and inform them of Peter’s condition. Keep him anonymous. And tell them I’m coming in through the rooftop”, Tony instructed Friday. “I don’t want to make a scene by entering through the front door”.

“Right away, Boss”, Friday complied.

“Oh, and Friday”, Tony added as an afterthought. If taking Peter to a hospital was really his only option, then he would do whatever it took to keep the kid’s identity safe. The last thing Peter needed on the top of everything else was super villains coming after his loved ones because one nosy nurse revealed his identity. “Buy the hospital while you’re at it”.

 

 

 

When Peter wakes up everything is bright and he can’t remember where he is. The overwhelming stench of disinfectant burns through his nose and he scrunches it up out of instinct, making a grimace. His mind is sluggish and it feels like all of his senses decide to kick into action at the same time, but there’s something wrong. He feels… drugged, but in a good way, in a way that doesn’t hurt. He can’t remember why, but he feels like he should be hurting a lot more.

It doesn’t take him too long to figure out that he’s alone, but he’s not in a hospital room. After the long moments that it takes for his vision to focus, he turns his head and finds that this room is too… personal for it to be a hospital. Surely, he’s tied to all different types of machines and he’s not wearing his own clothes, but the color of the walls and the view of the window beside his bed tells him it is impossible for this to be a hospital. Hospitals in Queens don’t have their windows facing a huge, flowery yard.

He falls asleep with the question about his surroundings lingering in his mind, but he doesn’t feel scared. He feels safe, even if he can’t exactly pinpoint the reason why.

 

 

 

 

When he comes to again, he remembers.

He remembers chasing the Rhino into a building, and making sure all the civilians were cleared off the scene before engaging him into battle. He remembers the sound of rumbling vibrating all around him, he remembers the way the hairs on his arms stood up as his spider-senses told him that he needed to leave. He remembers the concrete falling on him and pinning him down to the floor. He remembers suffocating from the weight, feeling like he would die there, feeling like he was crushed. He could no longer tell if his memories were from fighting the Rhino or fighting the Vulture, being so similar and so mixed up. It became too hard to breathe all of a sudden, and he found himself gasping and struggling for breath, even if it sent stabs of burning pain through his whole body, but especially above his hip. Peter’s vision became blurry as he tried to escape the feeling of being trapped, of being crushed, of being pinned down by concrete and left to die, alone and without anyone knowing where he was. His chest was tight and his mind was screaming. He didn’t even notice there was someone beside him, talking to him, until the person entered his direct field of vision. He tried to blink away the tears blurring his vision and swallow past the knot in his throat, but it was so hard. A hand squeezed his shoulder and a voice instructed him something, but Peter couldn’t make out the words. More people walked into the scene and Peter only realized that he had been trying to kick and fight his way out of the bed until his hand hit something hard and several hands pinned him down. Something picked at his arm and Peter managed to see a syringe protruding from it, just at the same time the sedatives kicked into his bloodstream.

His whole body relaxed and he fell back against the bed, panting and tired from all the fussing. There was something warm at the lower half of his torso and he could distantly overhear someone saying something about teared stitches. Peter swallowed dry again, trying to make sense of what was happening to him. The sedatives were calming him down, now, and it was getting easier to breathe. He didn’t know how much time had passed until he manage to see who it was sitting on the edge of his bed, beside him.

“Mr. Stark?”, Peter asked, and Jesus, was that his own voice? It sounded so hoarse and croaked that Peter would have never recognized it if he hadn’t know he had said the words out loud. There was a red bruise blossoming on one of Tony’s cheeks, and he looked like he had just returned from a funeral. Peter frowned. His mind was getting sluggish again, but he decided that sluggish was better than panicking. However, this meant that he wouldn’t be able to deduce what was bothering Mr. Stark so much.

“Are you with me, kid?”, Tony asked, raising an eyebrow. He sounded tired. The banter and teasing that was usually present in his voice whenever he spoke to Peter, even during moments of crisis, were gone. This worried him.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark”, Peter tried to apologize, even if his sluggish tongue refused to form the words properly. He sounded drunk, but he knew that Tony wouldn’t hold it against him, given that he was sedated. “I was feeling disorentied… disorened… dis… disor…”

“Disoriented?”, Tony supplied, an almost amused look on his face.

“Yes”, Peter ended up giggling, even though there was nothing in Tony’s face that suggested this was the proper time for that. If anything, he only looked more worried. Peter felt the need to explain himself. “Sorry, it’s the drugs. Really good. Can’t even feel my face”.

“That’s good, kid”, Tony huffed out a breath, smiling slightly. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s what they’re supposed to do”.

“Who hurt you?”, Peter went back to frowning. Noticing that Tony probably didn’t follow his line of thought, he pointed a heavy finger to his face. He ended up poking Tony’s face with his finger, not aware of his own strength. Tony flinched, but didn’t try to get away, looking slightly annoyed instead. “Your face”, he explained, in case Tony hadn’t understood yet.

“It’s nothing”, Tony sighed, looking like he was mustering all his strength not to roll his eyes. “You just need to rest. And maybe _not_ freak out the next time I try to talk to you”.

“Sorry, Mr. Tony”, Peter mumbled, feeling lightheaded. “I mean Mr. Man. Mr. Iron Stark”, he ended up giggling again, despite of himself. Tony looked profoundly disturbed. “What happened? I forgot”, he said casually. Now that they had hooked him up with those sedatives, the memory of being stuck beneath concrete didn’t seem so frightening. At least not with Mr. Stark there beside him, anyway. Still, he couldn’t remember what had happened afterwards. His head was a fuzzy mess of flashes that he couldn’t put in the right order, specially not with the sedative making him feel so lightheaded.

“You can catch up later. Right now, you need to sleep”, Tony said. He sounded more serious than Peter was used to. There was something wrong, but he couldn’t understand what it was.

“Where am I?”, Peter frowned. Despite of the drugs, his lack of awareness about his surroundings was beginning to make him feel nervous again.

“You’re at the Stark Facility”, Tony reassured him, his voice growing softer, probably noticing the fear in Peter’s voice and the way his eyes kept darting around the room madly, looking for anything familiar. “Don’t worry, you’re safe here”, he added, hoping it would be enough to ease Peter, but it was for nothing.

“What happened?”, the boy insisted, trying to prop himself into a sitting position. Tony sighed, pushing him back down to the mattress with one hand.

“Ok, long story short? You were impaled”, Tony huffed out, annoyance evident in his voice. Maybe it would be better to just clear Peter up on what had happened and get this over with, since it was clear that the boy wasn’t about to calm down. “But we patched you up and you’re going to be fine, as long as you keep your ass on this bed and don’t do anything _stupid_ ”, he sighed, covering his face with one hand and closing his eyes as if trying to calm down himself. “I handled everything with your aunt, ok? Stark Internship emergency business, or something. She bought it, so you don’t need to worry about her just now”.

“Oh”, Peter blinked dumbly, brain taking its time to process all that information. That explained why his side felt slightly more uncomfortable than the rest of his body, and he twisted his head so that he could try and take a look at his wound. He was covered with a blanket up to his chest, so he couldn’t see it, but brushing one hand against the spot above his hip he could feel the bandages covering it. Tony tapped his hand away from the wound with an exasperated breath.

“Don’t poke at it; what are you, five?”, he asked, squinting his eyes at Peter and shaking his head slightly. His shoulders dropped as if he was yielding, and he stood up from his chair. “You know what, I’m not good at babysitting. If you need anything, press that button over there”, he nodded at a button sitting at Peter’s close range. “The doctor said that you’re supposed to be back at 100% in a couple of days, thanks to you super-spider-person metabolism or something. Unfortunately, I have more important things to do than understanding a 14-year-old’s body changes, so I’ll be on my way now”, he began walking towards the door, but he never took his eyes off Peter. “Stay on this bed and don’t get up unless someone qualified allows you to”, he warned.

Peter couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was something wrong with Tony. Last time he was injured, Tony had remained by his bedside until he was back to his feet, and had even given him a ride home. Tony had literally spent the night on an uncomfortable hospital chair just so that he could keep an eye on Peter, and now he was backing off after a five-minute-long conversation without even asking how he was feeling. In fact, now that Peter put his drugged mind on it, he realized that Tony hadn’t looked him in the eyes ever since he woke up. Surely, he was facing Peter, but Tony’s eyes had never met his ever since he calmed down from his panic attack. Peter wanted to ask him what he had done, if and why Tony was mad at him. He wanted to ask Tony why he wasn’t looking him in the eye, why he was acting like Peter was just a random kid he had rescued on the street. He wanted to ask so many things, but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth and the questions sounded childish and stupid in his head. He wanted to ask Tony to _stay_ , but couldn’t find the courage to do so. After all, he knew how Tony was. He didn’t do heart-to-hearts, he didn’t compromise himself. He wouldn’t open up, especially not to Peter. It would be pointless to try, and he would probably just end up getting mocked. So instead of speaking up his mind, Peter shouted at Tony’s already disappearing form:

“I’m not 14, I’m 16!”

“Whatever you say, kiddo”, Tony shouted back over his shoulder.

 

 

 

 

He woke up to the crackling sound of a newspaper page turning, and opened his eyes to find Happy sitting by his bedside. Peter frowned. His sedative was running off, so his mind was becoming clearer. If there was one thing he didn’t like about his powers, was how ineffective stuff like painkillers or sedatives were. They always took too long to properly kick in and the effects worn off too quickly. Despite of this, the pain on his side wasn’t that bad anymore. Without addressing Happy, who was silently reading his newspaper and seemed to be unaware of Peter’s conscious state, he lifted the sheet covering his torso and sneaked a peek at his wound. It was neatly covered by a bandage and there was no blood seeping through. He was probably halfway through healing already, and let out a sigh of relief. He hated feeling helpless and dependent of others to take care of him, especially when everyone else called him a kid already.

“Tony said to not let you poke at it”, Happy said nonchalantly, never taking his eyes off his newspaper. Peter pulled the covers up back to his chest in surprise and dropped his head against the pillows, sighing. One of his arms were covered by a cast, but if he knew his body well, he wouldn’t need it for much longer.

“Hi, Happy”, Peter said. Despite his first surprise, he was actually glad to see the man. The sight of Happy waiting at his bedside brought back some bad memories about his fight with the Vulture, but it also made him feel a little bit warmer inside knowing that he had gone out of his way just to keep an eye on Peter, even if he would never admit it out loud.

“How are you feeling?”, Happy asked, finally putting down the newspaper and facing Peter, in a way that Tony had failed to do on the previous day. Or had the encounter been just hours ago? Peter couldn’t tell, since it was still sunny outside the window. Peter rubbed his eyes with his good arm.

“I’m better, actually”, he admitted. He really was. His whole body wasn’t aching anymore, just the region above his hip, and his mind was feeling much clearer. He felt like he could get to his feet and walk around the room without much difficulty, but decided against it. He didn’t want people to label him as irresponsible on the top of all the ‘kid’s and ‘boy’s.  Happy hummed his agreement and went back to reading his newspaper. Peter stared at him for some moments, waiting to see if the man would start any more conversations. When it became clear that he wouldn’t, Peter decided to speak up. “How long has it been?”

“Hm?”, Happy asked, still reading whatever news it was. Peter couldn’t make out the whole front of the paper, but he was pretty sure there was a picture of a collapsed building on it. He swallowed dry, memories of the rubble and the concrete crushing him flooding his head. He took a couple of deep breaths, not wanting to lose it again, and especially not in front of Happy. He recomposed himself.

“The Rhino”, Peter explained, not sure of how to phrase it. “The building. How long have I been here?”

“Oh”, Happy said. “That was all yesterday morning. Don’t worry, you haven’t been here long and Tony has already talked to your aunt. Stark Internship Emergency or something”.

Peter couldn’t tell for sure if he was being paranoid or if it was just his intuition speaking, but he sensed there was something else Happy wanted to say and was avoiding. He continued to stare at the man, waiting for him to say something else, but he continued to read his newspaper without paying any attention to Peter.

“So”, Peter continued, desperately trying to make conversation and get Happy to just speak his damn mind. “What about the Rhino? Did Mr. Stark capture him?”

“Oh, he was captured”, Happy said simply, looking like he was sharing an internal joke with himself, and for some reason having Happy looking at him all smug while he had no clue what was going on really annoyed Peter.

“What is it?”, he urged, sounding just a little bit impatient, but that was enough to make Happy raise his eyes cautiously.

“What?”, he asked, playing dumb. Peter sighed.

“Mr. Stark wouldn’t even look at me when I woke up before and you’re acting… uh, you’re being weird”, he said, hating how childish he ended up sounding. Happy straightened himself on his chair.

“I’m not acting weird, I’m just not a fan of sitting at uncomfortable bedsides”, Happy argued, and Peter’s face fell. He could feel his cheeks flush with embarrassment and tried to face away from Happy without being too obvious about it, in a meek attempt at preserving what was left of his dignity. So yeah, Happy wasn’t there because he cared about Peter. He was probably there just because Tony needed someone to keep an eye on him, and the medical staff was busy to do that. There was nothing Peter wanted more than to get to his feet and leave, to stop being a burden, to stop being seen as helpless, but he knew he would just be scolded at for doing so. Instead, he went very silent, staring at the wall beside him and not looking at Happy, who probably realized that he had been perhaps a bit too harsh to the boy. “Look. I’m not good at this, and neither is Tony”, Happy said with a sigh, hating the awkwardness of the situation. His job was to drive Tony around, for god’s sake, not have Tony’s heart-to-hearts for him. “He wanted to ask Pepper to do it for him, but we all agreed that, since you’ve never met Pepper before, it would be even weirder. I told him I’m not good at this sort of thing, but apparently even _I_ am still better than him”.

“I…”, Peter frowned, feeling very confused. “I… I don’t…? Understand? Better at what?”

Happy sighed again, looking like the world’s heaviest burden was resting above his shoulders.

“Look, kid. Tony’s sorry you got hurt because of him again”, he said, reaching to the inner pocket of his suit and pulling out something that Peter recognized as a card. Happy dropped it at Peter’s lap with a look that indicated that he thought the mere existence of that card was pathetic, but Peter picked it up anyway. The front of the card had a very simple drawing of a boy with a cast on one of his arms lying down on a hospital bed, looking very ill, and a message of “Get Well Soon!” with big red letters right above it. Peter opened the card to find a message written in black ink and in a very messy handwriting:

“Try not to die. It would be very inconvenient.

\- TS”

Peter sighed, but the tiniest hint of a smile appeared on the corner of his lips. He placed the card aside, turning back to face Happy.

“Really heartfelt”, he commented, and Happy hummed.

“Like I said, he’s not good at it”, Happy simply shrugged. “I told him he should come visit you, but he locked himself in his workshop instead”.

“But why?”, Peter frowned, not understanding what he could have possibly done to make Tony this upset. He was ok, wasn’t he? He had survived, and he wasn’t under any imminent threat. He couldn’t understand what frightened Tony so much about talking to him. It wasn’t like they were close enough to each other to have awkwardness as a problem in their… _partnership_. “I don’t get why Mr. Stark doesn’t want to talk to me. I mean, I’m ok, right? And you said he captured Rhino. I…”, he hesitated, feeling ashamed. “I know I screwed up, but… this… this isn’t the first time I’ve screwed up, and, and he never reacted like this before. Is it because I destroyed the building?”, Peter asked, well-aware that his eyes must have looked very puppy-like as he gazed at Happy, silently begging for a more viable explanation. Happy rolled his eyes again.

“No, kid. This isn’t about you, it’s… it’s more about him than it is about you”, he tried to explain, but it only served to confuse Peter more. The boy frowned, opening his mouth ready to ask for further explanations, but Happy interrupted before he could. “Look, I don’t want to have to deal with this. This is Tony’s business, not mine, and if I say something he doesn’t like it’s going to blow up on _my_ face, not yours. So save your questions for him, ok?”, he said with condescendence, standing up from his chair. He folded his newspaper and placed it beneath one armpit, looking like he was ready to leave.

“But how can I ask Mr. Stark any questions if he won’t even look at me?!”, Peter asked, confused and exasperated. Happy shrugged, looking like he didn’t care.

“Just stop by his workshop when you’re feeling better”, he suggested. “The doctor said you’d be able to go walking around by tonight”.

“But what if he doesn’t let me into the workshop?”, Peter frowned, feeling a bit anxious about going to Tony’s workshop uninvited. From what he could tell (which was not much), that was a very personal place for Tony and it was where he kept most of his inventions and new projects. Peter wouldn’t want to barge in unannounced and end up making Tony even madder at him.

“The door is rarely locked”, Happy shrugged, fishing his phone from his pocket and checking a message that he had just received. “Look, kid, I’ve got to go. If you need anything, press that button over there. And just… don’t do anything stupid while I’m away, ok?”

“Wait, were you babysitting me?”, Peter asked at Happy’s back, the beginning of a teasing smile appearing on his lips.

“No, I was keeping an eye on you”, Happy corrected, sounding a bit indignant. Peter smiled fondly as he disappeared through the door, and once the man was out of sight he relaxed back against his pillows. His wound wasn’t hurting as much as it had on the day before, and Peter was glad that he was no longer under sedation. He didn’t like being that disoriented.

He spent the whole afternoon thinking about what Happy had said about Tony worrying about him and not wanting to let it show. Peter had been a fan of Tony Stark way before the man gave him his suit, and so he knew everything there was to know about Tony’s public life. There wasn’t much information on Tony’s relationship with his father, but from the little data Peter had managed to gather from tabloids and some interviews, they hadn’t been exactly close. Peter knew better than to ask Tony about it, though. This was a subject too personal for him to pry on, even if it potentially could explain why Tony had so much trouble opening himself to other people. Not that Peter expected Tony to confide in him – no, that mere thought was absolutely ridiculous. But the thought of Tony keeping all his traumas and feelings for himself without talking about them to anyone; _that_ thought was just as ridiculous. After all, being the major owner of a multinational company and a super hero at the same time probably took its toll on someone, didn’t it? Peter having to conciliate his personal life with his secret one was already exhausting on his own; he couldn’t even begin to imagine how hard it was to be a public figure on the top of all that.

Eventually, a doctor and a nurse stop by his room to talk to him, since this was the first time he was actually conscious since the incident. Peter told them he was feeling much better and answered all of their questions, none of which had to do with his personal life. Peter figured that if Tony had gone as far as buying a hospital to preserve his identity, then bribing a few doctors into not prying into his life wouldn’t be too much effort, right?

The doctor explained to him that he had been in contact with a fellow medical man who was specializing on super-human metabolism, which was how he knew how to better treat Peter’s injury and why Tony had brought him in in the first place. Still, Peter’s superhero condition wasn’t exactly very similar to anything they had encountered so far, and therefore there was no way of determining when exactly he would be back at 100% if not by keeping a close eye on him. Despite of this, they were positive that Peter would be ok as long as he followed the doctor’s instructions and didn’t exert himself too much. Since he had behaved properly throughout the day and stayed in bed even without supervision, the doctor agreed to let him get to his feet and walk about a bit. Since Peter didn’t fall, flinch or feel any pain, the doctor deemed him healthy enough to be released on the following day, after just one more night of observation for safekeeping. After removing the cast from Peter’s arm, which was already fully healed, the doctor and the nurse left, bidding him goodnight even though it was still evening.

Peter waited in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling and thinking of what Happy had told him. There was nothing that he wanted more in the world than to visit _Tony’s Stark personal workshop_ , and just imagining the amount of gadgets and brand-new technology that would be there was enough to make his nerd heart speed up. But he couldn’t help but to feel scared that barging into the place would make Tony even more upset at him, and the last thing he wanted was for the billionaire to give him an even colder shoulder. He lied in bed brooding about this subject for almost an hour when he finally decided that it would be worse to lie there doing nothing than to actually try to figure out why Tony was so mad at him.

It wasn’t like Peter hadn’t failed before – the whole incident with the Vulture was proof enough of that –, but Tony had never reacted like this before. Surely, he had taken Peter’s suit away after he accidentally got in the way of an FBI investigation, but… But…

Peter’s heart dropped. Tony had taken his suit away once before. Aiding on a building collapse at Queens in the middle of a busy day wasn’t exactly something one could turn a blind eye to. Maybe Tony was avoiding him because he was tired of having Peter screw up, and didn’t want to have any association with him anymore. Maybe he would take his suit away again. That simple thought was enough to have Peter getting to his feet and changing out of his hospital gown that he had been wearing ever since he was taken in. He was thankful for whoever it was that dropped some normal clothes for him at the desk in the corner of the room while he was sleeping, and actually managed a tiny smile when he picked up the shirt that read “the physics is theoretical but the fun is real”. He put on the shirt and the pair of jeans, but the only thing available for his feet was a pair of flip-flops. Once he was ready, he stepped out of the room, only then realizing that he had no idea where Tony’s workshop was.

Peter wandered around aimlessly for a while, passing by closed doors that tempted him to be opened but that he left alone. He wouldn’t want to get into even more trouble than he already was. Eventually, he reached an elevator, and seeing no steps nearby, decided to step inside it. The door closed behind him and he turned around, startled. Checking the panel, he realized there were no buttons to be pressed, which could only mean the elevator was voice activated. He only hoped it didn’t only attend to registered voices, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to reach Tony’s workshop.

“U-uh, the workshop”, he said, sounding more hesitant than he would have liked. The elevator immediately pinged and started to move, descending. Peter waited nervously as the barely audible whirl of the elevator and his own shaky breathing were the only things he could hear. After a few moments, the elevator stopped, the doors opening, and his ears were immediately filled with the obscenely loud sound of AC/DC blasting through the whole floor. He stepped out of the elevator, finding that there was a large glass panel that separated the elevator hall from the workshop. Tony was nowhere to be seen, either inside or outside the workshop, but if the music was still playing then it meant he was still there, right? Peter meekly pushed the glass door open and stepped inside, finding that the music there in the workshop was even louder than it had been at the hall.

In the workshop, there were several large desks covered by all different types of paraphernalia that Peter wouldn’t be able to name even if he had the time to try. He walked around with pure awe in his face, trying to take in all the information that he was facing and make sense of all that. Even Captain America’s shield was there, propped up against a corner on the wall as if being hidden away from view, but what really made Peter finally stop to his tracks was a small design sitting on a dusty corner that looked very familiar. Approaching it, Peter picked it up to find it was a very accurate replica of his web-shooter, but enhanced. He could tell that, from the way Tony had re-designed it, it would be able to shoot web-fluid at a longer distance and make it last longer. Peter was so mesmerized by the accuracy of Tony’s design that he didn’t notice the man was standing right behind him until the music was cut to an abrupt stop, making Peter jolt at the sudden silence and look around like a startled deer, dropping the web-shooter back at the desk.

“Didn’t your aunt teach you that it’s not nice to pry?”, Tony asked from behind him, hands crossed behind his back, making Peter turn abruptly on his heels in shock. Tony’s face didn’t show any anger or annoyance, but was very unreadable for any other emotion. Peter opened and closed his mouth, trying to find words that he could say, but Tony merely gestured with one hand and walked away from him, returning to his working desk. Peter stared at him for a couple of seconds before following him, all the gadgets that had brought his attention seconds before going completely forgotten by him. “What are you doing here, kid? Shouldn’t you be resting in a bed upstairs?”, Tony asked without looking at Peter, sitting back at his chair and picking up a welder. He placed his safety goggles on and went back to doing whatever he was doing before, which seemed to be soldering some sort of weird-looking metal-like fabric. Peter watched Tony work for a few moments before realizing that he was expected to answer his question.

“Oh”, he said, even though Tony was still not looking at him. “The… uh, the doctor, he said that I was well enough to walk around. Uh, he said I’m free to go tomorrow”.

Tony simply hummed low at the back of his throat, focused on soldering the fabric in his hands. He continued to do so for what felt like an eternity, but couldn’t have been more than a minute, before finally turning the equipment off and setting it back on the table. He didn’t bother to take a look at his work with the special fabric like Peter had expected him to, but instead dropped it at his desk without paying any further attention to it. He removed his goggles and turned to Peter, intertwining his own fingers between his knees and staring up at the boy as if he was a student taking a question to his teacher after class. His whole body language screamed “how can I help?”, but there was something in his eyes that made Peter’s stomach twist. There was something wrong with Tony, but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was.

Suddenly, coming to the workshop seemed like the worst idea in the whole world. What had Peter been expecting to do? Just say “hey Mr. Stark thank you for taking me in and for hiring a personal medical team because of me and for saving my life, but why are you acting so weird about it? And why didn’t you go visit me in my death bed after I most probably punched you in the face even though I didn’t mean to?”. The whole plan sounded ridiculous and Peter only wished he could have thought it through before actually coming to the workshop. Now Tony was staring at him, clearly wanting to know why the hell Peter had helped himself into his personal workshop without being invited, and he had no plausible excuses to give him.

“I, um. Happy gave me your card?”, Peter tried, slightly squinting his eyes at the lousy attempt without even realizing he was doing it. Tony continued to stare at him with the same expression. “I wanted to thank you in person, and he said I could find you in your workshop, so I thought… it would be ok to come here”, Peter shrugged. Ok, that hadn’t been so awful. He watched as Tony studied his face, eventually uncrossing his fingers and standing up. He walked towards another nearby desk and Peter followed him again, even though Tony gave no indications of what he was going to do.

“Well, I guess my card worked, if you’re standing right here”, Tony said dismissively, his back turned to Peter as he messed with one of the tech lying around at his table. Peter bit his lower lip in anticipation, but Tony didn’t say anything else, or even turned to look at him. It was true that Tony had never been exactly warm towards Peter before, but this… this was different. This was too cold. When Peter had been injured the last time, Tony had waited by his bedside in the hospital through the whole night. Now he was acting like Peter was just some random boy who had wandered into his house. Peter didn’t want it to, because it was stupid, but it _hurt_.

“Mr. Stark”, he blurted out, because apparently he was very good at speaking and doing things without thinking about them first. Tony didn’t turn around. “I… If this is about me punching you in the face, I didn’t mean it. I wasn’t thinking straight and I’m sorry”, he said, because he could see a purple bruise blossoming on Tony’s cheek and he could vaguely remember hitting something when he freaked out back when he first woke up. This was the only possible conclusion right? Either Tony didn’t want to look at him because Peter had punched him, even if it had been an accident, or he was finally fed up with Peter’s amateur heroism and was going to ask for his suit back again.

“You really think…?”, Tony asked, voice full of disbelief, finally turning around and squinting his eyes at Peter as if he had just reached the most stupid conclusion in the world. He trailed off, however, closing his eyes and shaking his head in a tired manner. Dropping his head, Tony sighed heavily. Peter watched in silence, completely unaware of what he was supposed to say in his defense.

Tony turned back around and picked up the equipment with which he had been meddling, placing it into an upright position as if to expose it to Peter.

“You know what this is?”, Tony asked, sounding like a tired professor giving a lecture. Peter stared at the object for a while, making sense of it, before finally replying:

“A robot”, he said with interest, taking one step closer to the desk and approaching it. Tony allowed him to, stepping to the side so that Peter would have space to examine the robot.

“This is Dum-E”, Tony explained, crossing his arms above his chest. “The first robot I ever built; well… The first fully-functional one. I built it in my old man’s workshop. Actually won a prize for him, even though he’s basically useless”, he smiled fondly at the memory, but Peter didn’t notice it. He only had eyes for Dum-E, analyzing every inch of the robot and trying to imagine a Tony around his age building the first version of the robot in his father’s workshop. “I decided to keep him around after that. He actually helped me build my first…”, he hesitated, all smile disappearing from his face as memories of Afghanistan flooded his mind. “My second suit”, he corrected himself. The grim tone in his voice made Peter tear his eyes away from Dum-E and look at Tony, a hint of concern in the twist of his brow. Tony was averting Peter’s eyes, looking like the subject wasn’t important enough to be mentioned, but Peter could tell that this was just Tony playing it cool. He decided not to push.

“He’s amazing”, Peter said, managing to put on a smile and turning back at Dum-E. “You built him when you were around my age?”

“About that”, Tony nodded. “I was trying to impress my old man with him, but turns out I got more attention from the media than from Howard”, he commented bitterly. Peter stared blankly at Dum-E for a few moments before dropping his head.

“I wasn’t very close to my dad, either”, Peter ended up saying, feeling very brave and very stupid. “He and my mom died when I was just a kid. Aunt May and… and Uncle Ben raised me like I was their child, but I always knew I wasn’t. Theirs, I mean”.

Tony eyed him for a long moment, looking like he wanted to say something but decided against it. Peter decided he should continue.

“I just… I mean, I know what it’s like. To want to be close to your dad, but not… not be able to”, Peter sighed, not daring to look at Tony and allowing the older man to see the vulnerability in his eyes. This was a subject that Peter rarely spoke about (especially with people that he didn’t know well), but there was something about Tony that made him feel like he could confide in him. After all, he had given Peter his suit and saved his life twice now, hadn’t he?

“I’m not your shrink, kid”, Tony ended up saying, and Peter immediately sighed, a bitter smile appearing on his lips. He should have seen that coming, and even though Tony didn’t sound as serious as he had before, that didn’t mean his words didn’t make Peter feel any less stupid for being so open. “If you need one, we can get that arranged. It’s a Stark Internship benefit. Wouldn’t want all of my employees running around the company with daddy issues and spilling them all over my tech. We can talk about it. Maybe give Pepper a call and set up an appointment for you”, he teased, tapping at Peter’s shoulder before walking away from the desk. Peter couldn’t help but to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, ok Mr. Stark”, he said as he followed Tony to yet another working desk.

“Now this, over here”, Tony moved on as if Peter hadn’t just been very open and sincere about a personal subject with him a second ago. He was pointing at another robot, a bit different from Dum-E but very similar in design. He was too tall to be put on a desk, so he was standing beside it instead. “This is Butterfingers. I built him after I left MIT and found that Dum-E wouldn’t be enough to help me in my workshop. Can you tell what’s the difference between them?”, he crossed his arms again, staring intensely at Peter. Peter, trying not to get nervous about being asked a scientific question by Tony Stark, studied Butterfingers closely and tried to compare him with what he had seen from Dum-E.

“It looks like Dum-E is operated by an A.I., but Butterfingers has to be controlled remotely”, Peter concluded, still studying the robot closely. Tony hummed again and nodded.

“That’s correct”, Tony agreed.

“But if his name is Butterfingers, then I assume he’s not very good at holding equipment?”, Peter frowned, looking at Tony.

“That’s also correct”, Tony shrugged and nodded again.

“Then why build a hand-helping robot that you would have to control yourself, even if remotely, when you can just… go and do the work with your own hands?”, Peter’s frown deepened. Tony’s smile reappeared.

“Because I wasn’t the one who controlled it. Jarvis did the job for me”, Tony explained, looking a bit smug, like he was proud to speak of his own creations.

“Jarvis?”, Peter tilted his head to the side in confusion and Tony’s face fell. He realized for the first time that, unlike most people who were in his life, Peter had never gotten to know Jarvis before he was turned into… Well, before he ended up being the Vision. For some reason, this realization made something tighten inside Tony’s chest. Before Peter could realize how emotional he was feeling for talking about his old A.I. and friend, Tony waved a dismissive hand.

“Yes, it’s an acronym for Just A Rather Very Intelligent System”, Tony explained, avoiding Peter’s eyes again. “He used to be my personal A.I. back in the day. You were probably just a toddler then”, he added, just to make sure that Peter wouldn’t ask any more questions about Jarvis. This wasn’t a subject that made Tony feel particularly comfortable.

“You had a personal A.I.?”, Peter exclaimed, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. Tony sighed, realizing that the boy’s curiosity knew no limits.

“Yes, I had, but I’m not going to talk about this right now”, he huffed out a breath, rolling his eyes. “Gosh, you look like an overexcited puppy. Don’t they teach you how to make A.I.s in college anymore?”

“I’m not in college yet, Mr. Stark”, Peter frowned and smiled at the same time, not knowing if Tony really didn’t know that he was still in high school or if this was one of his many sarcastic jokes. The answer for his unvoiced question came when Tony turned his head to look at Peter with an overly dramatic confused look on his face.

“Jesus, how old are you, kid?”, he asked, feigning exasperation. Peter couldn’t help but to chuckle quietly, shaking his head.

“I’m 16”, he said, and for some reason Tony looked offended by the information.

“Ok, so you’re nearly there, then”, Tony said, grabbing an abandoned mug that had been sitting forgotten at his desk for god knows how long and drinking directly from it without checking its contents first. Peter blinked blankly at the sight, but Tony didn’t flinch as he consumed whatever there was inside the mug. Placing it back on the desk, he grabbed a nearby rolling chair and sat on it. “Do not drink that”, Tony pointed at the mug, and Peter spared it one last wary look before turning back to Tony. “So, what is it going to be?”, he asked, as if Peter knew exactly what he was talking about.

“I… What?”, Peter asked, confused. Tony gave him an unimpressed raise of eyebrows, looking almost offended that Peter wasn’t keeping up.

“College”, Tony explained with condescendence. “Did you pick one up yet? What are your aspirations? What does Mr. Parker want to be when he grows up?”

“I… I don’t…”, Peter frowned, feeling taken aback by Tony’s sudden interest in his life. He had never asked Peter something so personal before, and it was embarrassing to realize that he didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know yet. I mean, after… After I became Spider-Man, everything in my life turned upside down, and… College didn’t seem much like a priority anymore, you know?”, he tried with a smile. However, the serious, grim look Tony gave him in response told him that this hadn’t been the answer the billionaire had been expecting from him.

“Ok, let’s stablish something”, Tony said, leaning forward on the chair and eyeing Peter with a seriousness that was so, so rare to see in his eyes that made the boy actually shiver. “I never want to hear you say that your education is not a priority anymore, ok?”

“Uh… ok”, Peter blinked at him, face blank.

“How do you think I got here?”, Tony continued, gesturing with both hands at the workshop around them. “I didn’t get bit by a magic spider, or inherit everything from my dad without any effort. I worked hard to get it. And if it wasn’t for me, Stark Industries would still be selling dangerous weapons all around the world under the supervision of a psychotic maniac, and no, I’m not talking about me”, he pointed with a sharp smile. “I’m talking about Obadiah Stane. You know who that is?”, he raised an eyebrow.

Peter opened his mouth to answer, because the name was, indeed, familiar, but before he could say anything, Tony continued as if the question had been entirely rhetorical.

“That’s right. No need to thank me”, he waved a dismissing hand. “Let’s just say that if I hadn’t graduated in MIT, and if I hadn’t worked hard, the company my father worked his whole life to build would be at the hands of a psychopath today. A psychopath who sold me to a terrorist group and ordered my death”, he explained, and Peter’s lips actually parted upon hearing the words. That was right. Obadiah Stane had been one of the Stark Industries’ owners, who had bought Tony’s death and stolen his arc reactor. The events of Obadiah’s death had resulted on the press conference in which Tony revealed to the world that he was the Iron Man, a day which Peter would never be able to forget. He remembered sitting in front of his TV with Aunt May and Uncle Ben, and he remembered the mixed feelings of fear and excitement once Tony revealed his secret identity. He remembered wanting to be a super-hero as well, at the time. He remembered that was the first time he felt inspired by Tony Stark.

“And maybe my father left a fortune for me to inherit, yes”, Tony continued, unaware of Peter’s epiphany, “but I would have had it stolen from me if I hadn’t worked hard and studied enough to become CEO. Do you get my point?”, he raised one eyebrow again.

“Yes, Mr. Stark”, Peter nodded promptly, feeling stupid for ever saying that college wasn’t his priority. What had he been _thinking_?!

“So I’m going to ask you again, what do you want to be when you grow up?”, Tony asked, condescendence dripping from his tone. Peter swallowed dry.

“I… I always considered something in the area of biochemistry, or biophysics”, he ended up saying, feeling very pressured. Tony hummed.

“That’s interesting. That’s big stuff”, he commented, looking impressed. “And where do you plan to go?”

“I… Well”, Peter shrugged, actually feeling himself blush. He hated when he had to talk about money, especially when the conversation was with Tony. Tony was a billionaire, and his father had been a billionaire. He never had to worry about debts and loans and scholarships. But Peter? Aunt May and Uncle Ben had never been particularly wealthy, and their situation only worsened after Uncle Ben’s death. May didn’t exactly have the conditions to send Peter to a top-notch college, and his grades had only been dropping ever since he became the Spider-Man. He knew he couldn’t say that to Tony, since it was yet another reason for the man to ask the suit back, even though it wouldn’t stop Peter from helping people in need, even if he had to go back to using his old, makeshift suit. Tony seemed to sense his hesitation, because he sighed and leaned back against his chair, rolling it to the side and taking another sip of whatever it was inside his old mug. He stared at it for a few seconds before speaking up again.

“I’m going to be honest with you, kid. This can’t go on like this”, he began, and the words he said added with his tone of voice made Peter’s heart skip a beat. This was it. Tony was going to ask for the suit back again. He was going to remove his support from Peter and kick him out of his house because he was putting Spider-Man over his personal growth. “Your whole old-school altruistic spirit is endearing, yes, but you won’t be young forever. I learned this the hard way”, he said, tapping at his chest in what seemed to be a subconscious gesture. “And one day when you’re old and your spider-knees aren’t able to support you anymore, you’re going to regret not having something else to do with your life other than being a super hero. Because you won’t be so super anymore. Do you get what I’m saying?”

Peter swallowed dry again and nodded, not finding the words to reply to what Tony was telling him.

“And not only that”, Tony continued, getting up from his chair and walking towards Peter. “Beating up bad guys and saving cats from trees isn’t the only thing you can do to help people. I get it”, he shrugged, face nonchalant. “You’re a teenager; you get overexcited by everything. But getting yourself killed at the age of 12 or whatever is your age isn’t going to help anyone except for the guy who pulls the trigger”.

“Mr. Stark –“, Peter tried to say, but Tony immediately interrupted him before he could continue.

“Nah-ah-ah”, he raised a finger at Peter. “Grown up’s speaking. You’ve got brains, kid, so don’t throw that away just because you happened to gain powers that no one else has. Do save the world, or, better speaking, _Queens_ , but don’t do just _that_. I know that you can be more. And I don’t want you to just be more. I want you to be _better_ ”, he said, shoving both hands into the front pockets of his pants. He smiled bitterly and shook his head, staring at his shoes. “My old man must be laughing at my face right now. Look at me, I’m giving you the dad-talk”, he scoffed. “Anyway, this heart-to-heart is over now. I really don’t like being the adult one more than absolutely necessary”, he waved a dismissing hand at Peter, who blinked blankly at him.

“You… You’re not…”, Peter frowned, confused. “You won’t ask me for the suit back?”, he asked, voice small and hesitating. Tony turned his back to him and returned to the first desk, picking up the metallic cloth he had been working on when Peter first arrived and going back to welding it.

“I’m not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice, kid. Last time I took your suit, it didn’t work out very well for you”, Tony said without looking at Peter. “Though I think it did teach you a good lesson. But no, you can keep the suit. I have no use for it, anyway”, he shrugged, completely focused on the work in front of him.

Feeling relieved that the conversation about college was over and that Tony was not asking for his suit back, Peter finally allowed himself to relax. His shoulders actually dropped and his expression changed as the stress left his body. He finally allowed himself to actually look at the amazing things surrounding him in Tony’s workshop, even though he didn’t muster the courage to walk around and check them without permission. Instead, he simply stood there watching Tony work, without saying a word or doing anything. This seemed to call Tony’s attention.

“So? What are you still doing here? Don’t you have a wound to heal?”, Tony asked, not turning to look at Peter.

“I… I was just… Sorry, Mr. Stark, but what is _that_?”, Peter asked, not managing to hold back his curiosity and pointing at the material in Tony’s hands. Tony eyed Peter for a couple of seconds before going back to his work.

“Just a little something I’ve been working on”, he shrugged. “I don’t want you hopping around and getting impaled by pipes again, so the sovereign ruler of Wakanda and I made a deal and he let me get my hands on a little bit of this”, he waved the material in his hands before setting it back on the table. Peter’s lips parted in surprise as he stared at Tony.

“That’s _vibranium_?”, Peter asked, not managing to keep the awe from his voice. Tony was making a vibranium suit? For _him_?

“Don’t sound so excited”, Tony rolled his eyes. “I’ve not been having much luck molding it and making it work the way I want, but I’m also too proud to ask for T’Challa’s advice over it. I’ll figure it out, eventually. Just don’t expect it to have the suit so soon. In the mean time, do try not to get impaled by murderous rhinos, ok?”

Peter blinked at Tony, having trouble computing everything he was saying. He still couldn’t believe that Tony Stark was making him a vibranium suit! How _amazing_ was that?

“Mr. Stark, I don’t even know what to say… I…”, Peter said, running both hands through his hair and letting them rest at the back of his head as he huffed out a breath, eyes wide and face beaming with surprise and excitement. His mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water as he tried to find words to express his gratitude and admiration for Tony Stark.

“Then do me a favor and don’t say anything”, Tony said nonchalantly, not tearing his eyes away from his work. “This conversation was already emotional enough. Plus, this is not a _birthday gift_ , it’s just something to make sure no animal-themed supervillain will show up at my workshop with your murdered corpse in hands. I would _hate_ to have that conversation with your aunt”.

Tony’s words had their effect on Peter, though said effect was not what the billionaire had expected. The boy’s face fell at the prospect of Aunt May learning of his death after everything she had lost already, and sudden guilt invaded him. He lowered his head, and even though he was still excited about the vibranium suit, he couldn’t help but to worry about how his aunt was coping with his absence.

“What… What did you tell May?”, Peter asked, fingers fidgeting with the edge of his shirt. He hadn’t been able to find his phone after he woke up, and assumed it had probably been destroyed during his fight with the Rhino. If May had tried to contact him in that mean time, Peter wouldn’t be able to know. “About me… being here?”

“I told her we had an emergency with the Stark Industries servers and that unless you and the other interns came over and spent a couple of days at the facility, we would lose a major part of the company’s data. I didn’t really elaborate on it, but she bought it, so I wouldn’t worry about it”, he waved a dismissive hand.

“But I’m not a programmer”, Peter frowned.

“Well, I wouldn’t let her know _that_ , then”, Tony gave him a fake smile. “Oh, on your way out, lift those two books and the mug at the corner table by the door and you’ll find your phone, fully restored. You’ll probably have a few missed calls, but I can’t solve all your problems for you, kid”.

“You fixed my phone?”, Peter asked, not actually surprised that Tony could but still taken aback that he would. Tony seemed to have a tendency to try and fix all sorts of broken things.

“To be honest, I bought you a new one”, Tony shrugged, talking as if that was nothing. Which, to a man as rich as he was, it probably _was_ nothing. “But all your data is safe and restored in this new one. Do try not to let it be crushed by a building next time”, he added, and Peter’s face paled. He didn’t mean to, he didn’t mean to let Tony’s words affect him so much. After all, this was just how Tony communicated with people – he was never serious, he was always teasing and joking and talking about personal and sensitive stuff as if it was nothing. Peter had enough of a sense of humor to not let that bother him, and he always tagged along even when Tony was overly insensitive. But this time, it was beyond Peter’s control. Because as soon as the words _crushed by a building_ left Tony’s mouth, no matter how jokingly, the air inside Peter’s lungs left him as well. Memories of being crushed, of being trapped, of suffocating beneath an ocean of rubble and dust enveloped him and all he could recall was the pain and the feeling like he was going to die until Tony showed up and rescued him like a goddamn loser. Peter could feel the breath hitch in his throat, he could hear the horrible wheezing noise the air inside him was making as he breathed and he instinctively backed away from Tony’s desk, trying to get out of there, to get out of Tony’s sight before he could see how weak and traumatized Peter was. _C’mon, Spider-Man_. He could do this. He just had to turn around and leave the workshop, go back to the safety of his bed where Tony couldn’t judge him and thoughts of debris and concrete crushing the life out of him didn’t haunt him. He could do this. He was Spider-Man. He had survived a collapsed building twice in his life, now. He could do this.

He turned around and bumped on Tony’s rolling chair, collapsing to the floor without meaning to.

Memories of the Vulture and of crying out for help flashed before his eyes and Peter was too far gone now. His lungs were burning and his eyes were prickling with unshed tears as he tried to breathe, because this felt like being crushed all over again. He couldn’t tell anymore whether he was in the workshop or stuck in the debris, with tons of concrete on the top of his ribs, because it felt the same. It felt exactly the same as being trapped. He didn’t even realize that Tony was talking to him until the man entered his field of vision and Peter saw his lips moving. Only then the ringing in his ears – when had that started? – diminished enough for Peter to make sense of Tony’s words.

“That’s it, Pete, breathe with me. It’s ok. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, that’s it. Breathe in”, he was instructing Peter, his hand holding Peter’s own against the billionaire’s chest so that he could feel the rhythm of Tony’s breathing and mimic it. Peter swallowed past the lump in his throat and tried to synchronize his breathing with Tony’s, focusing on the man’s tight grip on his hand and on his worried eyes. He didn’t even have time to relish on the fact that Tony worried about him – he was too busy trying not to pass out from hyperventilating. Eventually, after long minutes, when he had calmed himself enough to stop gasping for every breath, Tony finally let go of his hand and sat down on the floor of the workshop beside him.

They were silent for a long time, Peter focusing on breathing regularly and trying to think of a way to get the hell out of there without making things even worse for himself. His escape plan was interrupted when Tony tapped his shoulder twice and squeezed it, studying his face.

“You ok?”, he asked, sounding more gentle than he usually was to the boy. Peter nodded, without looking at him. “Hey. C’mon. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about”.

“I’m sorry”, Peter ended up blurting out, because he didn’t know what else he could say.

“What for, kid? You had a panic attack. That’s more common among super heroes than you think. I myself am high on Xanax right now”, he huffed. “And now I know better than to joke about this subject around you. There’s no judgement here, all right? We all have our demons. And I’m the one who’s sorry for not taking yours seriously”.

“What’s your demon, Mr. Stark?”, Peter didn’t mean to ask, but ended up asking it anyway. When Tony took too long to answer, Peter turned his head to look at him, afraid that he had overstepped a boundary. He had already played with his luck by stepping into Tony’s workshop uninvited, and now he was asking him about his personal life even when he knew Tony didn’t like talking about it with anyone. But Tony didn’t look outraged, or offended, or even upset at Peter. Instead, he looked pensive and, much to Peter’s dismay, almost sad.

“Afghanistan”, Tony admitted, surprising Peter. He had expected the man to give him a dismissive reply, or to joke about it, but for once in his life, Tony looked – and sounded – downright serious and honest. “Sokovia. Ultron. Heart surgery. Let’s just say I have more than you can count, kid. But I’m not going to fill your young ears with this old man’s problems. Perhaps another time”, he concluded, returning to his usual teasing tone as he stood up with some difficulty and offered a hand to help Peter up as well. Peter took it and allowed Tony to pull him to his feet, feeling unusually wobbly and weak. “You should go get some rest. You’re not 100% yet”, he advised.

“Ok, Mr. Stark”, Peter nodded, feeling awkward about the sudden honest conversation he had with Tony. Would they go back to their usual dynamics now, or would there be a permanent bridge of awkwardness and embarrassment between them now? Peter decided there was no way for him to know the answer right away. “Thank you”, he felt the need to add. “For everything. For, uh, taking me in, and the suit, and… for. For saving my life”, he swallowed dry. He remembered how Tony had been the one to rescue him from beneath the debris of the building. How Tony had been the one to save him from his demons. “And if…”, he continued, feeling very embarrassed. “If you ever need help with… you demons”, he hesitated. “You can always count on me”.

“Geez, is the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man offering therapy sessions now?”, Tony raised an eyebrow, and Peter couldn’t help but to let out a laugh, relieved that Tony had decided to put the whole workshop-incident behind them and go back to the banter Peter was already used to. “I’m going to ask Friday to make an appointment for me. How much do you charge by hour? Or is it charity work, like giving directions to that churro lady? That’s exploitation of the elder, did you know that?”

“Goodnight, Mr. Stark”, Peter chuckled, allowing Tony to lead him towards the door of the workshop.

“Don’t forget your phone, kid”, Tony said, grabbing it from beneath a mug and two books at the corner desk closer to the door, as he had said it would be. How the device had ended up there, Peter had no idea. Peter, who had already stepped out of the workshop, grabbed the phone as Tony tossed it to it from inside the room. The door closed behind the boy and he watched for a few seconds while Tony walked back into his working place and sat back down in front of Peter’s suit. It was only when Peter was inside the elevator, making his way back to his recovery room, that he realized that the new phone was top-notch tech that he wouldn’t be able to afford even in his wildest dreams. His sense of gratitude, admiration and platonic affection for Tony only grew.

Something told Peter that the conversation about demons, trauma and fears with Tony wasn’t over yet, but he didn’t want to push his luck. He was grateful enough that Tony had supported him during his panic attack, rather than scolding him or mocking him for it. The way that Tony had so promptly aided Peter, like he knew what he was doing, made the boy wonder how often the billionaire went through that without having anyone to support him. A sense of compassion for Tony grew inside him as well.

All of that was drowned down and replaced by a feeling of pure, raw fear as soon as he tapped the screen of his brand-new phone and found he had 53 missed calls from May.

Peter was going to have a long night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

He barely slept on that night, too overwhelmed by the course of events of that day. Peter tried to organize everything that happened chronologically and make sense of it before he went to sleep, but everything was still so fresh and exciting that the only reason why he actually fell asleep on that night was because of how the panic attack had drained his energy.

Ok, so first, he fought the Rhino. The building fell on him – he tried to skip that part, despite acknowledging it had happened – and Tony saved his life. He was impaled in the process, then Tony took him to a hospital in order to save his life and then he was moved to Tony’s house as soon as he was stable enough so that his secret identity would remain preserved. Then he woke up, freaked out, punched Tony in the face and was sedated. Then Tony wouldn’t talk to him, so he went down to his workshop and found out that not only his phone had been infinitely upgraded, but he was also going to win a suit made out of _vibranium_! Then Tony mentioned the incident with the Rhino and he had a panic attack, and to his surprise Tony didn’t make fun of him but instead helped him through it as if he had gone through that himself. Then Peter found out that, despite of Tony’s explanation for Peter’s absence, Aunt May was still pissed as hell at him for not picking up his phone and he would definitely be grounded once he got back home. On the top of everything else, he was still recovering from his wound, which was almost fully healed by now. Overall, it was a pretty interesting, pretty exciting day that Peter would most definitely never forget. He couldn’t wait to tell Ned about it, but figured it would be better to do so in person, next time they hung out. He could already picture his friend’s face when Peter told him that he would get a suit made of vibranium.

Knowing that Tony wouldn’t try to stop him from being Spider-Man, but would instead aid him on it even further was what relaxed Peter the most about this situation. He had feared that Tony’s avoidance had been related to his disappointment in Peter, but it seemed to be the opposite. He was actually trying to improve Peter’s suit so that he could do better. He fell asleep thinking of vibranium and robots and artificial intelligences, a feeling of relief fluttering in his chest despite of the effects of the panic attack in his body.

However, the surprises of the previous day soon proved themselves not to be everything new that awaited Peter. As soon as he woke up, feeling well-rested and a lot better than before, Peter checked his phone to see if May had sent him a new text or called him again. He wouldn’t dare to miss another call from her, but what he found was the last thing he had expected. There was a new text, yes, but it wasn’t from his aunt. It was from Tony Stark.

**Tony Stark (5:43 a.m.): So, kid, how is your schedule on Thursdays?**

**Tony Stark (5:56 a.m.): Are you still sleeping? Unbelievable.**

**Tony Stark (5:59 a.m.): Let me know how your schedule is when you wake up. Put Tuesdays in there as well.**

Peter frowned, trying to make sense of the texts. For a moment, he wondered if Tony had sent them to the wrong person, but the dreaded nickname “kid” gave him a feeling that they had been actually intended to Peter. After blinking at his screen for a few moments, Peter typed out his response. He typed five different replies, until he settled for the one he thought was the best – not too formal, but not too intimate either.

**Peter Parker (10:20 a.m.): Hi, Mr. Stark. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I’m free the whole afternoon, unless there is crime going on at Queens lol.**

Much to Peter’s surprise, Tony’s response came in only a few minutes after.

**Tony Stark (10:24 a.m.): I wish I could eye-roll through texts.**

**Tony Stark (10:24 a.m.): Lucky for you, I’m not a fan of emojis.**

**Tony Stark (10:25 a.m.): What do you think about coming over to the workshop on Tuesdays and Thursdays to work on the vibranium suit? I could teach you a thing or two, since you’re still pretty much of a baby in the matters of mechanics.**

Peter gaped at the phone screen.

**Tony Stark (10:25 a.m.): It’s not every day I decide to be a personal tutor, so consider this proposal wisely.**

**Peter Parker (10:25 a.m.): ARE YOU SERIOUS MR STARK???**

**Tony Stark (10:26 a.m.): Don’t make me regret this. It’s a yes or no question.**

Peter tried to contain his excitement about being Tony Stark’s personal apprentice and took several deep breaths in order to calm himself. First the suit, then the phone, and now this?! This was more than Peter had ever hoped for! His “Stark Internship” would finally become literal! He did his best to type down a response that didn’t sound too desperate, even though his heart was speeding at a thousand beats per minute.

**Peter Parker (10:26 a.m.): Yes, of course Mr. Stark. I would love to. When can we start?**

**Tony Stark (10:27 a.m.): As soon as you’re well enough and May doesn’t want to eat me alive. So let’s say, next week?**

A wide smile blossomed on Peter’s lips.

**Peter Parker (10:27 a.m.): Ok. Next week works fine for me!**

**Tony Stark (10:30 a.m.): Try not to act like an overexcited puppy about it.**

**Peter Parker (10:30 a.m.): No promises, Mr. Stark ;-)**

**Tony Stark (10:31 a.m.): I can already feel that I am going to regret this, but see you next week.**

**Tony Stark (10:32): Do me a favor and don’t get yourself killed by an animal cosplayer until then**

**Peter Parker (10:33 a.m.): Can I tell my friends about it??**

**Tony Stark (10:34 a.m.): No.**

**Tony Stark (10:34 a.m.): Just kidding, do whatever you want. I just don’t want any fanboys showing up at my workshop or your career as Spider-Kid is over.**

**Peter Parker (10:34 a.m.): It’s Spider-MAN, Mr. Stark.**

**Tony Stark (10:35 a.m.): Whatever, kid.**

**Tony Stark (10:35 a.m.): Just don’t be late.**

**Author's Note:**

> After everyone left so many kudos and nice comments on Little Lion Man, I decided to turn it into a three-part series. This is the second part! It took me weeks to finish this work and I was still left with the lingering sensation that there's something missing. However, Tony and Peter will talk more about their traumas and their demons on the third part, as I don't think they would just open up to each other about PTSD overnight. On another note, I think I should mention that the panic attacks in this story (and in all of my stories) are written based on my own experience having them, so I apologize if they are innacurate to you or don't represent your own experience with panic attacks. Either way, I hope you guys enjoy this!  
> I always appreciate kudos and comments, and I'm always open to constructive criticism! If you didn't like something about this story, or think that I could improve somehow, let me know!  
> You can always find me on tumblr as edema--ruh and on twitter as @girltaire.


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